Blue

: Chapter 9



FIN WAS DRIVING me to Duke, when my phone vibrated with a call in my pocket. I was expecting it to be my father as I was still dodging his, but when I retrieved my phone, I was surprised to see an English number I didn’t recognise.

“Hello?” I answered.

“Good morning, Miss Sterling. Is now a good time to talk?”

“Um, that depends. Who is this?”

“This is Mrs Berry, the office clerk from the University. I apologise that I have to do this via the phone, but policy states that you are to be contacted as soon as the decision has been made.”

My brows pinched. “The decision?”

“Unfortunately, a staff member has made an accusation this morning, and until a thorough investigation can take place, you have been issued an immediate suspension.”

“An accusation?” I questioned, confused. “What am I being accused of? What do you mean, I’ve been issued a suspension?”

Finley’s concerned gaze switched from the road to me.

“A suspension, Miss Sterling. As of this morning, you have been excluded from Duke. Should you wish to appeal this decision, an email will be sent to the address on file with information on how to do this. The faculty appeals committee will consider your application, and once a decision has been made, we will notify you.”

Adrenaline hit my chest.

“I’m sorry, what? What the hell is happening?”

“I apologise, Miss Sterling. It’s completely out of my hands.”

“Are you going to tell me what I’ve been accused of?”

I heard the clicking of a keyboard, and then she said, “Failure for academic dishonesty.”

“But I didn’t do anything,” I argued.

“You’ll find all the information to appeal the decision in the email. Again, I apologise for doing this over the phone. I hope the rest of your day is better.”

I lowered my phone to my lap and opened my emails after the call, and precisely as Mrs Berry had said, an email was sitting at the top of my mailbox with the subject line: Immediate Suspension.

“Fin,” I said with a heavy breath. “Please take me to The Lagoon.”

He exhaled a breath through his nose and tapped a wrinkled thumb against the steering wheel, doing a double-take of me in my school uniform as I relaxed further into the leather. Though his eyes weren’t eating me up the way Walker’s often did. No, if anything, Finley was staring at me like I was a porcelain doll. It was the same way my father looked at me. Like I was between two states and on the cusp of emotional despair. Perhaps I just had that look about me. A look that screamed, “Fragile, don’t touch.”

“Do you need to change? I can turn the car around.”

“No,” I mumbled, reading over the email. The words failure of academic dishonesty and grounds of expulsion made my stomach turn.

I’d been at Duke two days.

Two fucking days.

What Walker said the night before flew to the forefront of my mind. His side of the bed was still warm when I woke up this morning. How the hell had he worked so fast, and what the fuck did he do?

I lifted my chin. “I’m going to kill him.”

I noticed Finley shaking his head in my peripheral vision. “Walker?”

“Yes. Do you think I won’t? I will,” I said, turning my head to face him. “He told me he’s nothing like my father, but he is. He’s so much like him, he may as well be a clone.”

Finley chuckled at my enthusiasm, though it seemed forced. “It’s probably some kind of misunderstanding. I’m sure it can all be worked out.”

“Finley, you do realise what a suspension means, don’t you? And I don’t know what exactly he’s done, but what I do know is it’s all his fault.”

He signalled onto a slower road, but this time, chose to keep quiet. I sighed with the lack of conversation, locked my phone, and fiddled with it on my lap.

A misunderstanding?

Unlikely.

How the hell would this be worked out? How could I be suspended for something someone else did? Did Walker understand what the hell he’d done?

We reached a T junction, and where we usually took a left towards Duke, this time we took a right. And as the first of the day’s rain hit the window, my head fell to the glass. Outside, traffic drove in either direction and pedestrians waltzed in and out of shops lining either side of the street. Though only temporary, the distraction of other people’s lives helped me mask my anger.

“How long have you been a chauffeur?” I asked absently.

“A long time.”

“Vague.” I raised my head from the cool glass and positioned my head back against my headrest.

“I’m an old man. When I say a long time, I mean it. Now, if you asked me how long I’d worked for Walker, I’d have another answer for you.”

I frowned at that. “What do you make of him?”

The tap of his thumb sounded against the wheel. “He’s a good man. Always grafting.”

“A good man,” I murmured. “I want to believe it. Maybe a part of me does.”

“Hmm, give him time.”

“He confuses me. I never know what version of him I’m about to get. He’s hot one minute, cold the next. A little bad.” I side-eyed him. “A little good. And yet… I have the strangest feeling when I’m around him.”

His brows pinched in concentration as we waited in traffic, and then he steered into another lane and headed towards a large roundabout. “Go on.”

“I don’t know how to explain it. I feel safe with him. He makes me want to drop my guard. It’s silly, right? The feeling holds no ground. And now look where it’s got me,” I scoffed. “Suspended.”

“Hmm.”

“Seriously, Fin? Just hmm? Why don’t you have more to say?”

“Perhaps the quieter I am, the more I can hear.”

“Right. So you can report back to Walker. Got it.”

He opened his mouth as if he wanted to say something, but closed it again quickly.

“Just because I said I feel safe with him doesn’t mean I’m not angry. I am angry,” I punctuated. It seemed he didn’t want to reply to that either. This time, I didn’t even get another “hmm.”

He drove us in silence, and after taking the second exit at the roundabout, and another five minutes of driving through the city, eventually we entered a large parking lot. A large, almost stadium-like building grew closer as we neared, the words “Blue Lagoon” attached to its front.

“You’d think I’d remember it, but I don’t. I’m not sure if my father ever brought me here.”

“If he did, things have probably changed some since then. Walker ordered the place to be re-gut with your father’s approval back in February.”

I pursed my lips, staring ahead. I was excited to see the inside, but I couldn’t forget the real reason I was here, even if Finley chose to ignore it.

“Arena entrance,” Finley expressed, aiming a finger over the head of the steering wheel. “You’ll notice some cars, but not many. Those who use the gym tend to park here, as it’s cheaper than a roadside permit in the city. It looks quiet now, but this whole lot will be full for fight night.” He drove us over an electric barricade, bypassing the front doors and into an underground parking lot. “The nightclub is open to the public from seven p.m., though their entry points are on the opposite side of the building, closer to the city’s hustle. Staff parking is this way, as is access that grants the staff entry to each sector of the building.” He rolled the car into a space near a steel door and produced a black metallic ID from his pocket–like the one Walker showed me on the plane. “My keycard is programmed to all three sections. This door right here gains you access to the staff elevator.” He pointed behind me, and I shifted in my seat to follow his line of sight. “The nightclub is on the third floor. That’s likely where you’ll find Walker. If not, someone should be about to point you in the right direction.”

I took the keycard from him and slipped it into the pocket of my tote bag. “Thanks, Fin.”

He grunted. “Whenever you’re ready to leave, I’ll be here.”

Feeling my eyes well with unshed tears, I blinked hard before refocusing on my surroundings. I knew his words weren’t meant the way I took them, but I chose to reply like they were.

“That’s okay, old man. I don’t think I ever really arrived.” And then I removed myself from the vehicle before he could say anything else.

I STEPPED out of the lift and into a box room with glass windows. And before the elevator could close behind me, I was already walking through an open door and down a clear staircase lit with blue LEDS. My boots hit each step, vocalising my presence to whoever could hear my arrival in what was otherwise a quiet atmosphere. When I reached the edge of the nightclub floor, I realised the room was empty, which was obvious for a nightclub early in the morning, I guess. But Walker was there somewhere, meddling in business that was actually his to intervene in.

I inspected the area for any sign of him, but found myself distracted by my surroundings. I didn’t think I’d ever been somewhere quite like it before.

A bright blue painted the walls, and darker stalls stood against a black metal top bar in the shape of an octagon. It wasn’t how I pictured it to be by any means.

I began walking further into the large room, observing every detail my eyes could touch. It had Walker written all over it. The place was hard around the edges, yet soft with delicate fittings and fixtures–bright blue and white lights illuminating where it fell dark.

Unlike the clear staircase, black metal booths separated the seating area from the white dance floor. I quickly realised that the nightclub represented who Walker was more than his penthouse did. And it held more of him than he’d ever care to show first-hand.

“Hey,” a male voice spoke from behind me, and I spun on my heels, startled at the sudden interaction.

Hands shot out to grip my arms when I almost crashed into the stranger’s chest. “Easy.” He chuckled. “Fin may have let Nate know you were on your way up.”

Nate?

“Noah?”

“The one and only.” The grin he shot me was devilish, and I could see how he used it in his favour. His gaze brushed over me like a wave from head to foot. I stared at him. He was more of a pretty boy than he was a grown man, and though his skin was a shade darker than Walker’s, I could still see the resemblance to him in his features. I wasn’t angry at Noah, but I couldn’t help but swallow down the angry bile that stung my throat. Or want to shake away the discomfort that settled over my skin.

“Noah.” Another voice came from nearby, and that’s when I lifted my head and found Walker watching our encounter from the bottom of the steps I’d just come from, mere metres away.

“How long has he been standing there?”

Noah narrowed his eyes at me while Walker’s eyes focused on where Noah was holding my arms. All at once, my body was heating up, except I couldn’t quite pinpoint the significance.

Not wanting to embarrass myself, I didn’t say anything in front of Noah. Though I didn’t have to worry because Walker ignored my presence as if he no longer cared I was there, speaking only to his brother. “Wez is waiting for you downstairs.”

“I’m going, I’m going.” Noah loosened his grip on me and gave me another cheeky smile. “Nice to see you, Blue,” he said, tapping two fingers to his temple in a salute, “but duty calls.”

Walker watched Noah retreat in the opposite direction before finally refocusing his attention on me. Apparently, I was worthy of his time now. He didn’t say anything if he noticed my fists clenched at my sides.

Maybe he didn’t care.

He still hadn’t moved from the end of the staircase, and I hadn’t made any move towards him.

I had every right to be angry at him, didn’t I?

I’m not sure why I was even questioning myself.

“Kid.”

To no surprise, he sported his usual look of disdain. He gave nothing away to signify what he’d done. Perhaps he didn’t know himself.

He turned around and began walking up the stairs, only he seemed to stop mid-step when he didn’t hear the sound of my footsteps following. Perhaps this wasn’t the right environment to discuss what he’d done, but I wasn’t his bitch. He swung his head, not enough to face me, but enough to steal my attention. And then he spoke loud enough for me to hear his next words from where I still stood rooted to the spot. “Are you coming?”

I scowled, called him a dick under my breath, then meandered after him, planning all the ways I could hurt him with every step like he’d hurt me.

His trousers tightened against his body as he slid his hands into his pockets and walked ahead of me. He glanced at me over his shoulder, his brows pinched as he went. I had no doubt he wanted to know what I was doing here, unless Finley had told him already. Though I assumed he hadn’t with how little he spoke and from the confusion etched into Walker’s features. Besides, this was my business. Not his.

When we reached the top of the stairs and entered the box room, Walker slid his keycard against the elevator’s control panel. And once we were inside, he opened an encasing on the wall and did the same again. The panel beeped, the red-light flashing green, and then the opposite side of the elevator split into two and opened like a door.

“After you,” he instructed, allowing me to step past him and into the room.

I quickly came to the realisation the room was his office, and it covered the whole expansion of the nightclub below us.

A caged black metal wall decorated one side of the room–like the walls of the octagon, while one-way glass windows lined the other. A black desk was situated in front of us, and off to the left was a discrete wall of filing cabinets and a door that I presumed led to his private bathroom. There were no papers sprawled across his desk as there would be in my father’s office, but the latest iMac. Beside it, his office phone. There were also no family photographs to show off anyone in his life except for a single picture of him and Noah. However, there was more personality here than at the penthouse. Framed black and white artistic images of martial arts fighters were fitted to the wall, and spotlights in the ceiling brightened the otherwise dark room. The very last thing I noticed was a lounge set-up at the far end of the room with a private bar. Because duh, Walker liked a drink and easy access. It made perfect sense, despite there being a bar no more than fifteen metres beneath us.

Both frustration and anger lingered in my mannerisms, but I was distracted enough not to jump down his throat straightaway. “Did this used to be my father’s office?”

He made his way behind the desk. “Years ago. Now it’s mine.”

He was as vague as Fin seemed to be back in the car.

He sat down in the chair at his desk, widening his knees as he leant back, though his gaze didn’t waver from my face. “Let’s not bother with the little talk. Why are you here and not on your way to Duke?”

It felt natural to walk towards him. I only halted when I was between his thighs, vaguely aware of how close I’d gravitated. It was like he had me on a string. Pulling, pulling, and pulling.

Gritting my teeth, I muttered, “You know why.”

His eyes dropped to my legs before he caught himself. When he looked up, he must have noticed my sullen expression.

“What’s going on?”

I sighed, but it was a failed attempt at keeping myself composed. “What’s going on is whatever you did backfired. I’ve been suspended, and the only way I’m allowed back is if they accept my appeal. My appeal, Walker. Maybe I should be the one asking you what’s going on? What the fuck did you do?”

He rolled his neck, seemingly agitated. “That cocky cartoon-looking motherfucker.”

What?

“I’ll sort it.”

“You’ll sort it? Just like you said you would last night,” I argued. “Whatever you did, you made things worse. Just wait until my dad hears about this.”

“Fuck, Blue.” With no warning, he shot forward out of his chair and pushed me back against the desk, his knuckles gripping the woodwork on either side of me. “I said I’d sort it. You’re really going to run and tell him about this? A minor mistake?”

I pushed back but was barely able to move, too distracted by his scent. The freshly showered fragrance of him tickled my senses instead of the usual lingering liquor. “No, I’m not going to ‘run and tell him.’ But he will find out, and that’s only if Duke hasn’t contacted him already. I’m not sure if you remember this, but I told you I wanted to make my own mistakes. Not have someone make them for me.”

Glancing down in the little space between us, I watched his hands as they inched closer to my waist before he balled them into fists. Was it silly to think that perhaps we had each other on a string? That I could pull him into me, the way he pulled me into him?

“Let me worry about that.” He dropped his eyes to his watch, and the tick of his jaw drew my attention to the sharp lines of his face. “I have vendors coming now. This couldn’t have waited until later?”

My eyes widened in disbelief. “Waited?”

“Yes, waited. Evading me at work isn’t part of the deal.”

“The deal? I’m unaware of any deal. Are you insinuating that I’m part of some lousy business goings between you and my father, is that it?”

“That’s it,” he said, all matter-of-fact. “I was hired to accommodate you in my penthouse and help you settle into your new life, nothing more. There’s no fucking reason for you to be in my club. Suspended or not, we could have spoken about this tonight.”

“Sorry–what? Help me settle? It’s your fault I’ve been suspended! And, uh, isn’t it more my father’s club than it is yours?” I replied innocently. “Oh, and I’d call it an arrangement–one between you and him. I had no say in it, remember? If I did, I probably wouldn’t have been in the same position as I am now. I wouldn’t be suspended,” I squealed. “On day fucking two! I feel like I’m in an alternate universe. God, Walker… These things… these things don’t happen in real life.”

His gaze fell to my mouth, perhaps disgusted with my words, or my tone, but he didn’t argue with me, knowing I only spoke the truth. His shoulder barely rose in a shrug, and still, he didn’t move from where he had me trapped against his desk. Despite the two of us feeling frustrated, for the first time since being in his presence, I noticed how well rested he looked.

“Why did you sleep beside me last night? Was that a part of the arrangement? Or did you think by disappearing before I woke up you could pretend it hadn’t happened, only to then go and screw up my future?”

I didn’t care who he thought he was; there was no way he’d get away with having my place at Duke revoked. I wanted to push him. I wanted to push him until he told me how he was going to fucking fix this.

“No.” He wet his bottom lip. “But trust me, it won’t happen again.”

I swallowed, needing clarification. What did that say about what I wanted? “Which part? Because I doubt you’re able to do any more damage than you already have in the four days I’ve been here. I don’t get why he chose you.

“You know, it would help if you kept your lips sealed. Fuck, I really can’t think clearly when your pretty mouth is moving so fast.”

Pretty mouth?

What?

My stomach somersaulted, and still, I continued to push. “Would it make it better if we pretended you weren’t sleeping in my bed and I was sleeping in yours?” I mocked, just as he did in the car from the airport. “I wonder what my dad would think about how well you’re taking care of me.”

He gripped my chin hard between his fingers in a move I didn’t anticipate, but all it did was increase the fire in my belly. His following words lacked less conviction than his touch. “Are you threatening me?” His tone was husky, his mouth a fraction from my own. If I was a braver girl, I could’ve swiped my ‘pretty mouth’ across his and tasted him on my tongue. How clearly would he think then?

I didn’t move my mouth any closer to his, but I licked my lips, showcasing what he deemed pretty while inclining my body back into the desk. Then I allowed my legs to slip between his as he towered over me.

I wasn’t going to… but maybe I could.

Seeming to read my mind, he narrowed his eyes. “You better not be threatening me, Blue.”

“What if I am?” How far could I push? “And what if you like it?” I murmured.

Utilising my body wasn’t something I’d done before, but that didn’t mean I didn’t know how to use it. I’d been to enough parties, and I’d witnessed enough women try to seduce my father. Maybe the one thing I detested of my father was the one thing I could use against Walker.

He shook his head, but he didn’t make any move to stop me when I lifted my knee and hooked my leg around his waist.

“Blue,” he said, agitated, though his voice was breathy. His grip on my chin wavered as he looked down at our new position. My school skirt had risen up my thigh, showcasing some of my underwear, which was a movement away from being pressed against his obvious erection. He was attracted to me, and he couldn’t admit it. He couldn’t admit it because it was obscene; a thirty-four-year-old man being sexually attracted to a seventeen-year-old girl.

I’d be the first to say so.

I was the one that didn’t like others’ judgement, yet he was the one trying to stay within the lines of social perception, fighting with himself over the way he felt. But as much as he couldn’t admit it, he couldn’t deny it either.

And ultimately, I was only fooling myself.

I wasn’t any more of a threat to him than he was to me.

“You can deny it if you want,” I said quietly. “But I feel how hard you are for me.”

Guilt marred his features. The heat in his eyes was as undeniable as the flames in my stomach, but so was the newfound worry.

I angled my hips forward, feeling the outline of his cock through the lace of my underwear.

His grip on my chin grew slacker, and then he dropped it, hissing between his lips. “Fuck, brat. What are you doing?”

Even though he asked the question, he didn’t move away. Our eyes danced with each other, our pupils portraying more honesty than our mouths as I rolled myself against him. Slow and subtle.

Our frustration became intimacy. And really, what good was a threat when it meant so little and felt so good?

Ever so slowly, his gaze ran from the marks he’d left on my chin to my collarbone, lingering over the material of my school shirt where my scar hid beneath it. I wondered what it was he saw when he looked at my imperfections. Did he think back to our conversation in the car, when I referred to myself as broken? Did he think I was fragile? Did he wish me to be a little more pristine? My self-consciousness tried to eat at me, but I refused to let it take this from me too.

I rolled my hips again, embarrassingly desperate for a little more friction.

“Blue,” he warned. His hands moved to hold my hips, and before I could ease more of the growing ache, his grip tightened, stopping me from going any further.

My lips parted, inhaling what little air I could, and regardless of our arousal, regardless of him stopping something that had barely begun, I couldn’t help but tell him what’d been plaguing my mind.

It felt bigger than my threat.

Bigger than the both of us.

Bigger than the moment I could’ve easily lost myself in.

“I can’t help but feel as though there’s more between us than what my father has asked of you.”

“Maybe.”

“Maybe?” I repeated.

And as if he was backtracking, all he said next was, “Maybe the only thing between us are my secrets.”

I was annoyed that he refused to admit to more. Still, I murmured, “What secrets?”

His demeanour shifted as he put up a front. It seemed our roles of who controlled who in our situation had reversed. “Why?” he remarked. “Are you afraid?”

Was he mocking me? Did he see through me that well?

Afraid?” I feigned indifference. “Is there something to be afraid of? Should I be afraid of you?” I rolled my eyes with sass. “Of your secrets?”

Not for the first time, his gaze dropped to my lips as he murmured, “Maybe you should be afraid of both.” And then his fingers squeezed my hips, almost bruising, as if to drive home his point.

Regardless, I didn’t flinch.

If he thought he could scare me away with his bullshit, if he believed he could hide from our chemistry, he had both all wrong.

“Don’t you remember what I said on the plane?” I whispered. “Or did that slip your mind too?”

I couldn’t focus my attention as his mismatched orbs came back to mine and held me hostage with a strength I wasn’t sure it was possible to break from.

“I remember,” he replied hoarsely, but the corner of his mouth lifted in a smirk. “You’re not afraid of anything.”

How big were his secrets in comparison to this? In comparison to our undeniable attraction? What could he possibly be hiding that would make this feeling any less than what it was?

My heart thundered in quick succession as he leant further into me and wrapped his hand around my neck. The anger was long gone, our strings were free, and in their place, something else entirely.

The pads of his fingers laid firm against my pulse, his hardness creating the smallest amount of friction between my legs. Only this time, he had control. And I was grateful, for once, that someone wasn’t treating me like glass.

Fuck, he was choking me, but not with his fingers.

With his secrecy.

With his masculinity.

With his heat on my heat.

First, I hesitated, but then I reached up and wrapped my fingers around his wrist, wanting to touch his pulse and feel if it was beating as hard as mine. He went to pull away, perhaps startled he’d got it all wrong, but I held him there. His eyes searched mine, and time seemed to stand still. It seemed my threat had backfired, because there was nothing in this moment or the moments before that I didn’t want myself. There was nothing I’d want to take back. There was only me wanting to take more.

He spoke his next question quietly, almost as if he were unsure of it himself. “Surely you’re afraid of whatever this is?”

Maybe he was.

Maybe the question was meant for himself, because admitting this was something would only make it real.

But this time, I didn’t hesitate. “Can I be afraid of how safe I feel when I’m around you? Can I be afraid of not understanding what it might mean?”

The need to blanket myself behind some kind of armour was strong once the words left my mouth, so I closed my eyes, concentrating on the feel of his fingers absently caressing my neck. I wondered if he was conscious of the action. I wondered if we would both live to regret this.

I couldn’t see him, but I felt his breath across my lips. “Shit, Blue, I–”

My eyes blinked open, and he halted whatever else laid on the tip of his tongue. And then the sudden ringing of his office phone disrupted our moment, dousing us in icy water. I should have been glad for the interruption, but all I felt was disappointment.

My lips turned down at the corners, but I didn’t sink from my position as he pulled away from me.

I flattened down my skirt, hiding my underwear. They were damp, and he knew it. His jaw clenched like it irritated him to give in to our chemistry–as if already regretting what just happened. Like the phone ringing hadn’t just saved him from making a big mistake.

He didn’t hide as he re-adjusted himself inside his slacks. But it wasn’t until he picked up the phone and the shrill of the calling stopped that his eyes returned to mine. Though unlike before, I couldn’t read much into them.

“Walker,” he said, announcing his name to the caller. “What do you want?” he argued more than asked. I wasn’t sure if he meant his tone for them, or if he was angry because of me. “I’m obviously at work. You called me.”

I searched his eyes as I seated myself on his desk, eager to know who it was that had the power to aggravate him so easily if it wasn’t my doing. The same caller from three mornings ago, or someone else entirely?

He swore under his breath and pinched the bridge of his nose. “Yeah, and there’s a reason why I’ve been avoiding your calls,” he said, slamming the phone down only for it to bounce from the hook. He didn’t bother putting it back on; instead, he dropped down, lowering a hand under his desk to pull out the wire. And though he tried to hide it, I didn’t miss his hard swallow as he tore his gaze away from the space between my legs.

The atmosphere took another turn after that, and he didn’t meet my eyes again as he stood. He didn’t look at me at all. He walked over to the edge of his office to distance us, focusing his attention through the window.

A few minutes passed, then breathing out a heavy breath, he said, “Shit.”

With the space between us, I worked to ignore the feeling between my legs and how my heart palpitated at the thoughts of what it all meant. Of everything that happened and how it couldn’t be taken back.

I swung my legs back and forth, deliberating.

“Blue,” he muttered.

“No. Don’t say anything.”

I didn’t want to hear how he regretted what almost happened.

Remembering why I came here, I crossed my arms over my chest as I stared at his back, and then my eyes fell to the floor as I stopped swinging my legs, and instead, frantically shook my head. So much was at stake here. Too much more that could go wrong. I had to wise up. Reassert myself into my big girl shoes and own who I wanted to be. I couldn’t let these complicated feelings or this infatuation for a man I barely knew mess everything up.

It was a complete three sixty but–

“Please, Walker. I don’t want to go back to Miami. I’ve barely landed on my feet, and already the rug is being taken out from under me.”

In my peripheral vision, I noticed him turn around, standing stoic in his suit and listening intently.

I looked up at him, a little nervous. “Whatever deal you’ve agreed to with my father must be worth substantial money. Is that one of your secrets? Why else would you go through all that trouble to help me? Because that’s what you attempted, right? You said something or did something, thinking you could fix Mr Smith’s issue with me?”

It was the only thing that made the most logical sense, given the timing.

He worked his teeth against his jaw, clenching his fists before sliding his hands into his pockets. “I may have offered him some money in exchange for his respect,” he said, somewhat flustered. Then he laughed humourlessly. “Fuck, that daft wanker has some balls. I’ll go to the education board if that’s what you want me to do. I’ll pay off the appeal and force them to take my fucking money. Or I can get rid of Mr Smith. None of this needs to be an issue.”

“No.”

He took one hand from his pocket and dragged it through his hair. “What do you mean, no?” His words seemed forced.

I contemplated the jumbled thoughts I couldn’t string into sentences as he took steps towards me. We weren’t in as close proximity as before, but we were still close enough that I could feel the pull towards him.

“I just mean no.” I frowned.

He seemed exasperated, but that made two of us. I didn’t have any idea what I was doing, and it seemed neither did he.

“Who are you, Blue Sterling? And what is it you want? Because fuck, I didn’t expect you. And now I’m here, questioning my morals and doing things I’d never usually do.” He slid the hand from his head to grip the back of his neck. “It seems every time I think I’ve figured you out, you go and prove me wrong.”

“You’re not the only one confused, Walker.”

“No?”

Now it was him with those two letters, though I knew he meant it as a question.

“We’ve known each other for four days. It’s… I don’t…” I shook my head, reminding myself again that whatever this familiarity between us was, wasn’t the reason I was here. That just because he made me feel things–sexual or not–didn’t mean we were destined for something more.

“That’s not why I’m here. It’s not… you can’t just…”

“For fuck’s sake, kid. Spit it out.”

I snapped. “Fuck my life. You can’t throw money at people and expect them to take it! Mr Smith might have bullied me into thinking I wasn’t smart enough for his class, but what you did was just as wrong.”

Quickly, I planned the threat I was about to put between us. One that had potential. The one I considered before it became… something else.

It was easy to twist it–simple enough to turn it into something it wasn’t.

He came on to me, dad. He wanted me.

Would it make me a hypocrite?

Probably.

I could’ve appealed Duke’s decision, but who was to say they’d rule in my favour?

“Blue.”

My head continued to shake.

What evidence did they have against me?

“Whatever you’re thinking, stop. I said I’d sort it. Your father doesn’t need to know shit.”

It seemed like I’d gotten under his skin. But he’d put me in this predicament, and it was his fault we were in this mess, wasn’t it? I didn’t have many options. Desperate people sometimes had to do desperate things.

I looked at him. “What choice do I have?”

“I really don’t give a fuck for threats,” he said. “It wouldn’t hurt to remember that.”

Who was he trying to convince? I could make this so bad for him. Was that what I wanted?

“You’ve taken away something important to me. The only way you’ll make this right is if you give me something better.”

He frowned deeply, but I was certain I saw a glimmer of remorse shining through his eyes.

“I don’t have all the answers, but I know what I want.” My lips moved before my mind could comprehend it any further, the words tumbling from my mouth before I realised what I was saying. “And you’re going to be the one to give it to me.”


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